The Infinite Child

“Peter, have you had any nightmares recently?”

“No....yes.” The psychiatrist sighed, his eyes falling onto the teen sitting across from him.

Peter cringed under the intense gaze.

“What were they about?”

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

Peter fell silent not wanting to talk about his nightmares and sound like a madman. It was always a sore subject for him. Huang knee that and knew when he needed to back down. “How’ve you been feeling lately Peter?” The Psychiatrist, Doctor Huang, asked suddenly seemingly out of the blue.

Peter shrugged.

“Your Aunt mentioned you attended court? How was that?”

“Well…”

“I hereby by the state of New York grant the request to appeal the Death Certificate placed by the government and return your citizenship. New York also grants a compensation to help financially adjust to the world now. Mister Parker, we welcome you back and we wish you the best of luck on your journey from this point on. Court is dismissed.”

The judge lowered the gavel, banging it. The sound of justice rang through his ears, echoing in his skull. His day in court was over. By the state of New York he was alive again. He should rejoice, cry, exclaim a hallelujah, jump with glee. He doesn't though and instead turns to his lawyer who gave him a small smile. She seemed happy to win.

So why does he feel so empty?

Peter turns to his aunt who pulls him into a hug from behind the barrier, crying tears of joy. He didn’t hug back at first. Instead he felt his aunts happy light surrounding him, hugging him. Feeling people's ‘light’ became a typical thing for him. It felt normal at this point, no longer surprising him. Everyone had their own unique signature that felt different to him. His aunt was warm like cookies, full of love and care it sometimes overwhelmed him.

Peter raised his arms and wrapped them around his aunt, giving her a weak squeeze. He plastered on fake enthusiasm when his Aunt pulled back. Suddenly Stark rising from his seat in the courtroom caught his eye. He wasn’t aware the billionaire was here until now. Next to him was his wife, Pepper Potts-or Stark technically. Their daughter wasn’t with them. It was strange to think the man he used to know has a daughter.

“Congrats kid. Welcome to the world of living,” Stark says, pulling him into a hug.

Peter froze at the gesture, feeling a wave of love and safety radiating off the man. Even if it's been six months, physical affection from the man that used to deny his hugs like they were poison still surprised him. Then again this wasn’t the same man he remembered. After coming back the billionaire was all about physical affection. It was like the the dudes drug.

‘ Like how a father would love his son, ’ A voice in the back of his head whispered. The thought lingered in his head, etching the words in his heart. He dropped the fakeness and in the moment let a real smile crossed his face.

Peter stayed in the hug a bit longer, basking in warmth his mentor gave him.

From the corner of his eye he saw his lawyer exit the courtroom. He excused himself from the celebration and followed the woman, calling her. He stopped her from getting in the elevator, pulling her aside.

“M-Miss Benson?”

“Oh? Peter! I thought you and your family already left with Stark?” The redhead turned in surprise. Peter glanced at Stark and May, hesitating to speak. He felt his lawyers soft hand on his shoulder snapping him back.

“I just thought I should thank you...for everything,” Peter told the older woman, a sheepish expression. “It alright. I just hope you’ll find life to go much more smoothly after today.” The kid scoffed at the idea. Life going smooth was like him not being a death magnet. Impossible. “Smooth isn’t exactly how Parker lifes go,” He joked lamley.

His lawyer stifled a giggle, her green eyes meeting his own brown ones. “Well, I guess we just have to hope for the best.” Peter smiled, feeling his own lips betray him. He could feel his families waiting gaze on him, watching the two interact.

“Go enjoy this with your family Peter. You deserve it,” Miss Benson told him. ‘ Highly doubt it, ’ He wanted to say but didn’t. Instead he said, “I guess you’re right...I hope we never meet again Miss Benson and I mean it that in the nicest way possible.”

“Bye Peter.”

The teen gave the lawyer a quick hug, letting her feel his light from inside her own darkness. He hoped he could provide her with some light while she fought whatever battle she was in. They had grown to like each other. Peter pulled back, giving one last Parker smile, before walking away. For once he let his body soak in the light around him and let him feel the happiness shining around him.

“Now that your death certificate is annulled, what will you do now?” Huang asked curiously.

“I don’t need a piece of paper to tell me that I’m alive,” Peter replied, his tone off. His psychiatrist nodded, agreeing with with him.

“Of course you don’t. Only you can say whether you're alive or not.”

Peter didn’t say anything after that. He was at loss for words, unsure of what to say to that.

“Did you mention this in group therapy?”

“I stopped going to group.” Peter’s voice was short and clipped. Raw emotion beginning to stir in the pot at the mention of group.

“How come?”

“At first, I couldn’t believe it. One minute there was people screaming, and the next I’m being told I’ve been dead for five years...It was unreal. Like this was all some bad dream. I couldn’t process it, even now.”

Laura fiddled with her cup, her fingers prying on the styrofoam edges, her gaze away from the group around her. She pushed her stray hair back instinctively, behind her ears, unable to stay still, needing her body to move.

“It’s alright Laura, it’s normal for people who’ve gone through a traumatic situation like yourself to have difficulty transitioning into the real world. It’s perfectly normal. It’ll take time and hard work,” Miss Houston told the anxious woman, using a calm tone. Laura attacked her nails, biting them and nodding excessively. They group thanked the troubled woman for sharing as usual before their eyes fell onto the group leader, awaiting guidance.

“Mister Parker, are you feeling willingly to share today?”

Eyes fell onto Peter who’s sat on his chair, feet pulled up, arms wrapped around them, one hand holding his own cup, his eyes on his nails, picking at them as if there was something wrong with them. As expected, the teen shook his head refusing to open up to the group and show his colors.

“You know, part of the healing process is talking to someone about your emotions.”  

Peter shifted under the millions of eyes on him, feeling uncomfortable with the subject. He wished for the leader to move on and pick another troubled soul to share their colors. However today seemed to be different.

“I can’t make you open up, but I can highly encourage it.” Peter ignored the urge to bite his nails, not wanting to ruin them again like the last time he did it. Instead he closed both his hands around his own water cup, moving his gaze upwards to the group.

“I-I’m fine,” He lied, nervous of the attention.

“Many people say there fine, most of those people are lying. Are you lying Mister Parker?” Feeling like a child getting caught with their hand in the cookie jar, he sunk into his seat. Hiding away from the world took a real hit on his social skills.

“We can’t help if you aren’t completely truthful,” Miss Houston added.

Peter sighed, his tense shoulders dropping in defeat. Though he was against opening the full book he decided to crank it open a smidge to satisfy the leader so she could move on and leave him alone.

“I-I went to court t-to get my death certificate annulled and won.”

The group congratulated him. It wasn’t until the room quiet down did Miss Houston spoke again. “You don’t sound too happy about it,” Houston prodded, testing the teen trying to push him forward. “Are you happy?”

Peter bit his cheek, his eyes falling away, guilt in eyes. Happiness wasn’t an emotion he’d used to describe how he felt. More like numb to the whole thing. He was shameful of how he felt. He was selfish and ungrateful. At least he was lucky enough to have a support system, a loving Aunt, and a roof over his head. Many didn’t have his luck. Lots of kids lost family in the five years of being dusted and were placed in the flawed foster system to live the rest of their childhood in.

“It’s okay if you aren't,” Miss Houston ressured. “Nobody will judge you if you aren’t.”

Peter sighed.

“I-I don’t know why I’m not happy. It’s selfish, I know.”

“It’s not selfish, it’s human.” Peter looked up towards the group, his eyes flying across the dozens of the faces looking for a cue to tell him that they hated him. It never came. Instead they were all open, listening attentively, eyes full of support.

“I-I just thought if I tried harder I would be happy and get over it,” Peter confessed, “but it’s like I can’t shake the fact that everything has changed. It’s like two months ago I was living my life and the next I’m thrown into this new world where I’m supposed to be dead. People moved on, had families, grew older and they moved on. I-I thought that that was what I would want when I died, for p-people to move on, but seeing it in real life hurt.” He knew his eyes were tearing up, but continued to speak, ignoring his emotions. His box leaked, creating holes and dripping.

“I tried to focus on the good but it’s hard to do that when most of your life is gone.”

Miss Houston watched him with pity in her eyes, lifting her leg on top of thigh and knitting her hands together watching a single droplet of sadness run down the teens face.

“H-how can you love anything now when you lost everything? Huh? Tell me Miss Houston, if you could go back and change things of happening would you hesitate? Or would you rather let us be dead while you get to live out your life?”

The woman didn’t reply, but it was clear what her answer was.

Peter knew he wasn’t being fair, he knew he was being selfish but it didn’t hurt him any less. He couldn’t understand why he was so emotional now oppose to before the world went to hell. Before he could keep a lid on it, now his lid was on it’s last leg with tennis ball sized holes in it and duct tape barely keeping it together. His anger had boiled and festered inside him, growing bitter in the two months of life. At night haunted by visions, last night being one that hit far too close to home. Usually he wrote them off as nothing but strange dreams. Nothing more but a fluke in his brain. However in his gut he knew they were more than that. Whether they be visions of the past, he didn’t know. Until last night.

“I can’t roll the dice again.”

“No I can’t help everybody.”

“Something tells me I should put it in a locked box and drop it at the bottom of the lake, and go to bed.”

Peter sucked in his pain, wiping away his teary eyes. He added more duct tape to hid lid and shoved it back into the dirty closet he locked in before and hoped it’d stayed there. It wasn’t the best coping skill but it was all he got now.

The cup in his hands broke, crushed underneath his death tight grip, and so was his heart. He looked up, not even acknowledging the cup or the surprised faces, and just looked the therapist in the eyes with his misty ones.

“May I please be excuse for a moment to use the restroom?” Peter asked, his voice quiet and broken, really needing the restroom. The kid just needed to take a step back.

Miss Houston didn’t stop the upset teen from leaving the session.

“That must’ve been hard opening up like that,” Huang acknowledged.

“I-I overreacted. I shouldn’t have burst out like that. It wasn’t fair to M-Miss Houston or the group,” Peter lamented, his eyes growing sad like a puppy dog. If he was a dog his ears would’ve been down and his tail in between his legs.

“You were upset. It’s okay to lash out sometimes. We can’t always keep things bottled up inside.”   But I should be able to Peter thought.

“It sounds like you felt betrayed and hurt by what happened to you. That the whole around you turned it’s back on you.” If only he knew.

“But nobody did anything wrong. I’m just being a baby,” Peter countered.

“Of course they did!” Peter’s head shot up, eyes wide like a deer caught in headlights. “The people you love betrayed you. They forgot about you and moved on. They left you behind when they promised you they’d always wait for you. Your angry that they were happy because you felt like they were happy that you were gone.”

Peter felt exposed, like he was stripped of all his clothing and armor then laid in front of the world naked. Hearing somebody talk about what he felt left a bitter taste in his mouth as guilt began to turn his stomach.

“It isn’t true Peter. Your Aunt loves you very much, and by the sound of it Stark does too.”

“I-I visited him yah know?”

“Really?” Huang was surprised. “I thought you were avoiding him?” Peter shrugged, acting as if he didn’t know what he was talking about.

“I couldn’t avoid him for long…”

“Maybe we should try combination E again. It’s possible I messed up something in process,” Peter stated, staring at the glass beaker.

“Highly doubt it kiddo. Your too intune with your work to make one.”

Peter didn’t say anything at his mentors words, setting the beaker down on the table. He crumbled up the paper labeled ‘ Test E ’ and tossing it into the trash. He ignored his bubbling frustration and forced himself to act calm.

“What are you trying to do anyways?” Stark asked, looking up from his own work for a split second to look up at the teenanger, trying to start a conversation.

“I’m trying to recreate my web formula since I lost my old notes. Who knew leaving your backpack webbed in an alleyway for five years ment never seeing said backpack again.” Peter picked up the next formula he wrote, scanning it over, when he felt something cloud his mentors usually open loving safe soul. He could feel the worry consume his mentor and fear in a single breath.

“Is Spidey getting ready to make a comeback?”

The teen lowered his paper, turning to face his mentor. His expression unreadable as he said, “It doesn't matter.” His eyes were distant.

“It's okay if he doesn’t. The world will be fine if you-”

“If I what? Step down?” He challenged.

¨If that's what you want.¨ He could hear the fatherly tone behind his words. It left him wondering what was their relationship?  Or were they still just mentor and mentee? Were they father and son like so many believe them to be? If they were the second one, then when did that happen? When did they reach that level? He was just a kid from Queens with a sad orphan story. Was it the guilt he felt talking? Either way it left him on ice, unsure of what to think.

¨Have you made an appointment to see Strange yet?¨

The mention of the sorcerers name turned his blood to ice. His heart skipped a beat as he thought about the older man. He hadn’t seen him since the funeral. The sorcor didn’t even apologize to him for giving the time stone away. Though Peter guess he couldn’t really blame him, it was to save the world.

At the price of half of their lives.

No biggie.

¨No. I haven’t had the time.¨ His tone cold.

¨You know everyone who's been dusted on the team has to see him. It's mandatory.¨ Peter avoided his mentors concerned gaze, finding it difficult to look him the eye. He couldn't look anybody in the eye without feeling like he needed to break down.

He couldn't look the stranger in the eye so he avoided it.

¨So you Aunt tells me you start school next week. Same school?”

“Yeah. I’m gonna be placed in the same grade and everything,” He mumbled, thankful for the change of conversation. “You know the new law says you don’t have to stay in the same grade. You could just go straight MIT.” Peter shook his head. Just because he was allowed to didn’t mean he should.

“As much as I love that idea, I’d rather go to college when I’m actually seventeen.” The teen scribbled something on his notes, only half heartedly listening at this point.

“Technically you're twenty one.” Peter grew tense, his shoulders rising. He gripped the pencil tightly, breaking it in a second. He wasn’t twenty two, he was barely seventeen. He didn’t care about the time gap, in his mind he was still eighteen. The mechanic seemed to realize his tension, and stepped back.

Peter was thankful for that.

“It was like being with a stranger. He had Mister Stark’s face but acted like a parent...I mean I guess he would because he is a father. I-I just found it weird I guess. That the man who wouldn’t hug me two months ago was the same man who’d hug me any chance he’d get,” Peter unpacked.

Huang nodded, scribbling down notes on his notepad quickly.

“So your solution is to ignore him?” It sounded harsher than it did in his head. The man technically did nothing wrong. He saved Peter. That should’ve made him love Mister Stark more than he already did.

‘But it’s not your Mister Stark,’ The nagging voice told him.

“It’s the only choice I’ve got.” Peter didn’t look his psychiatrist in they eyes when he said that. Deep down he knew that it was wrong, but then again he was never really good with dealing with his problems.

Peter laid awake that night, laying on his bed alone. His mind refused to sleep, and his body felt restless.

Peter knew what this meant. It’s been nearly two weeks for him without being Spider-Man. Weeks since he’s been in the suit. Technically five years depending on who you ask. Either way his body craved the adrenaline, and his mind needed the reassurance that New York was safe.

Though part of him knew that he was running away from his problems. His sleep was haunted by visions and his life was haunted by his mind. He just chose to ignore that side now.

“With great power, comes great responsibility.”

With his Uncle’s wise words ringing through his head, the teen rolled out of bed, unable to stay still any longer, and walked towards his closet. He threw open the closet doors, shoved his clothes aside revealing his Spidey suit in the back laying out waiting for him. It laid in perfect view in front of him.

Lucky for him dying in his original suit meant nothing could stop him now.

“Please, just take a break. I know it’s your responsibility but just wait,” His Aunt told him earlier in the day when the subject of his night time activities came up. Peter picked at his plate of pasta, using the fork to push the food around. “Don’t worry, I won’t be Spider-Man…” Peter looked straight into his Aunt’s eyes and told her what she need to hear. She didn’t look fully convince and was about to say something when her phone went off. She hesitated, sneaking a quick glance at her nephew.

Peter nodded and watched her take his approval, excusing herself to take the call.

The teen needed space to think and laying in bed wasn’t helping him. He need to leave. He needed his old life back . Though he’d never say it aloud, he was sick of this fake life he was living.

Spider-Man was the one thing that didn't change. It was the only thing he knew how to do now that he was in this futuristic world.

The world had moved on, leaving the friendly neighborhood web slinger who once protected the streets of New York forgotten in the dust.

His Aunt had begged him to wait a while but Peter couldn’t, not right now, not ever. The only thing protecting the little guy was Spider-Man. That never changed, not even in death. His responsibilities were still there, coursing through him. He couldn’t play house anymore when people are out there needing help. For five years the little guys like him didn’t have him watching their back. He wasn’t about to let them go any longer without his protection. They needed somebody close to the ground. Especially now that the world is in chaos.

Peter needed this. He needed to be Spider-Man to get through this. He’d admit it, part of him wanted a taste of his old life and this was the last thing he had of that life that didn’t change or grow up. Mister Stark had a family, his friends were older, and his life was technically over in the eyes of the government. Spider-Man didn’t have a family, he didn’t get older, he never ended.

All he that was left in his boring life was Spider-Man.

Peter didn’t think twice before snatching the suit out of closet.  

“ Hello Peter. ”

“What’s the reading Hill?”

“Sir, all around the world were getting high energy readings. We picked them up after the world suffered from a nationwide blackout. Press are all over it. Claiming that this unexplainable phenomenon is the work of a top secret government. President wants us to handle it with complete discretion,” Hill informed as she pulled up the readings on her tablet showing the older male. With one hand on the helicopter hand bar and the other grabbing the tablet, Fury examined the image. It was an above shot, showing the whole world in one image. Around different parts of the world at random, different colors showing the severity of the energy live.

“Any idea on what caused it or what it is?”

“Not sure yet, but what we do know is that the readings given off are similar to Infinity Stone energy. However the stones were destroyed when Stark snapped his fingers so they couldn’t be the reason behind it. This is something else though it can’t be coincidence that this happens so close after the dusting.”

“Is that what we’re calling it? The dusting?” Fury raised a brow. “Blame the press sir.” Hill replied with a smug smirk on her lips.

The helicopter circled around a hotspot, giving both Shield members a moment to look below. “This place has one of the highest rising energy signals. We sealed off all access to the park until we can figure out what is happening.”

“Where are we?” Fury asked, getting a strange feeling from the place. The man had a bad feeling about this.

“London sir.”

Suddenly from below the wind picked up, carrying fallen leaves and trash into the air. The helicopter rocked a little bit at the increase, and the pad began blare loudly warning the two.

“The energy is spiraling sir! I don’t know what’s happening!” Hill exclaimed.

Fury watched with his one eye opened wide. It was like time stopped for a second, everything stood in midair for what seemed like forever.

“What the fu..”

The world suddenly pressed play, the wind taking a sharp turn towards the fountain below as a small tear formed in their reality. It grew wider, and its suction growing stronger.

“Oh shit!” The helicopter began to pull towards it, as did everything around it.  Hill grabbed onto her seat, gripping tightly as she exclaimed, “Prepare for impact!” They spun out of the air towards the ground, once close Fury and Hil tore their seatbelt off and jumped onto the ground safely. The landed on the ground with a thud right as the wind stopped. There was a few seconds of calm before the wind started again, only this time going the opposite direction.

They were blown away in the wind carrying them farther away until Hill managed to grab onto a stray tree and grab her bosses arm. Her grip iron tight as the wind fought against them until suddenly it all stopped. They flopped onto the ground, near each other as a bright white light blinded everyone. As the light faded, Agent Hill lifted herself up and glanced at her boss.

“Sir? Are you alright?” Hill asked

“I’m fine, but my pants are ruined and I’m not so sure the universe is gonna pay me back,” Fury replied. The Agent helped her boss up from the ground and dusted herself off. She was about to call the situation they had in when she noticed something laying by the fountain where the whole thing started. It looks like a man laying limp there unconscious.

“Sir, I think we need medic.”